New Loves
by RoseFyre
Summary: Yule Ball 6th Year...HP/?, RW/HG, GW/Colin Creevey, NL/LB, various other couples, and watch Draco and Pansy have the most public breakup ever! Please R&R!


Author's Note: This is written as though the speaker is telling it to someone the same night, so some of the tenses and such are going to be wrong - it's all on purpose. Yes, there are inconsistencies - they're there for a reason.  
  
Also, this is going to fit into the world I'm creating, one that includes all four HP books and covers everything in the wizarding world from 1938 until 2016, so it's fine that some of the conversations aren't going to make complete sense. (Hint) The one between Dumbledore and McGonagall is important for later, as is the speaker's mention of "Dumbledore's request." And, no, you're not meant to know who she is immediately.  
The night started out badly, even though it had thankfully improved by the end. I was dressed in lilac dress robes, in the exact right color to set off my curly brown hair. Interestingly enough, it also worked on my eyes. When I came out into the common room, I discovered that both Crabbe and Goyle were wearing black, with sashes in the same lilac as my robe.  
  
As usual, they both wanted me to go with them. I, on the other hand, didn't want to go with either of them; they're both blithering idiots. Despite what everyone says, some Slytherins do work, and I am one of them. Yes, I do care about power and fashion and other things as well, but schoolwork is high on my list of priorities.  
  
Of course Crabbe and Goyle both wanted me; they had no chance with anyone in any other year, Millicent Bulstrode is nobody's first choice, and Draco Malfoy has Pansy Parkinson, and they won't compete with him. Anyway, Malfoy and Parkinson have been betrothed since they were babies, so they might as well get along now.  
  
Neither me, nor Bulstrode, nor Crabbe or Goyle is betrothed, so we don't need to spend time with our future spouses. In old Slytherin families, betrothal only happens when two families want to create a union and each has a child the right age. Thank God that both Crabbe and Goyle are third cousins of mine; you can't be betrothed to anyone closer than fifth. Otherwise the blood gets bad. Of course. . .both Crabbe and Goyle's families have married too closely, which is why they're such idiots. My oldest sister is betrothed, however, to a boy from Durmstrang. Luckily for her, they're not getting married until they're 25 - she doesn't like him very much.  
  
Anyway, Bulstrode is always chasing after both of them, and they're always chasing after me, Parkinson enjoys adding fuel to the fire, and Malfoy would obviously be willing to take me as his mistress. In fact, I think he encourages those two idiots, because he knows that, if I married either of them, they'd be willing to let him have me, and I wouldn't be able to stop them. That is only one of the reasons why I absolutely refuse to go out with either of them.  
  
Actually, the boy I like is from another house. . .which makes things kind of difficult. After all, who'd ever accept a Slytherin going out with The Boy Who Lived? I know that my parents wouldn't, not unless he got me pregnant, and, even then, they would probably try and force me to get rid of the baby. Anyway, he doesn't like me, so what does it matter?  
  
So, Crabbe and Goyle both seemed to expect me to go with them, even though I had absolutely no interest in either one. I brushed past them, headed for the ball, trying to avoid getting stopped. As I left, I could hear Crabbe speaking. "Sucks to be you. Okay, okay, I guess it sucks to be me too. . ." Then I heard a punch, and, when they finally arrived at the ball, Bulstrode simpering over both of them, they both had black eyes.  
  
I laughed. After all, they're CRABBE and GOYLE. Them punching each other out is just funny. Look, I'm sorry if that offends you, but it so is.  
  
I walked in by myself, looking for somewhere to sit away from the idiots in my year in Slytherin. I found a nice corner, in an area where there were mostly Ravenclaws, and I sat down silently. I wasn't going to avoid the ball, but I wasn't going to put myself out there either.  
  
Not much happened for a while. I watched Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey flirt. The two of them are so cute together, now that she's FINALLY gotten over that idiotic crush on Potter, and now that he's no longer obsessed with his camera.  
  
Neville Longbottom and Lavender Brown danced together, him holding her like she was some type of precious jewel. I sighed, wishing there was someone who would hold me like that. And, no, whatever you say, Crabbe and Goyle don't count. Anyway, neither of them could ever be half as gentle as Longbottom, and I would want my boyfriend to be like him.  
  
Over by the drinks table, I could see Hermione Granger yelling at Ron Weasley about something or other. Suddenly, he stopped her angry tirade with a kiss, and she, after a stunned moment, fell into his arms. I sighed again, knowing that they'd probably be among the first to fulfill Dumbledore's request, and I. . .well, I would not be.  
  
"Silly, aren't they?" I heard HIS voice behind me, then the sound of a chair being pulled out. "Do you mind if I join you?" I nodded, and he sat down as I steadfastly watched Weasley and Granger. "I'm jealous," he said, his voice wistful.  
  
"Feeling like a third wheel, are we, Potter?"  
  
"Yes, especially since the girl I like doesn't seem to know I exist." Not know he exists? The only girls like that were Granger, Parkinson, and Hannah Abbott. I couldn't conceive of him liking any of them - Abbott's nice and all, but she's. . .a Hufflepuff. Anyway, she and Justin Finch- Fletchley have been going out for at least three years. Parkinson is. . .Parkinson, the "Queen Bitch" of Slytherin - he most certainly doesn't like HER. And Granger. . .well, she and Weasley are so obviously in love, and H- Potter never seemed to LIKE like her.  
  
"H-Potter, I'm sure. . ." I was cut off by the distinctive sounds of Malfoy and Parkinson fighting. It is a sound I have heard many times, late at night in the Slytherin common room, especially when there is some idiotic issue at stake.  
  
I looked over, curious, noticing that Granger and Weasley were long gone, as were Mandy Brocklehurst and Terry Boot. "Am I not good enough that you go off with that. . .that. . .trollop?" Parkinson's anger seemed directed at Parvati Patil, who looked rather stiff.  
  
"Parvati and Malfoy? Eww. . ." Potter seemed disgusted. I was shocked, but not nearly as disgusted as he appeared to be.  
  
"Look, you little whore, Parvati's no more of a trollop than you are!" Malfoy yelled, backing her up until she had bumped into Dean Thomas, who had enveloped her into his arms protectively. "And you're with him, aren't you? That. . .Gryffindor!"  
  
"So what if I'm with Dean, you no good hypocrite!"  
  
"How'd Thomas fall for HER?" I whispered to Potter. "He's so nice, and she's so. . .not." He didn't answer as we watched the spectacle unfold.  
  
"Parvati's not a Mudblood, unlike him, you little idiot!" The whole hall gasped, McGonagall starting to go over there, obviously ready to pummel Malfoy. She was stopped by Dumbledore's hand on her arm and his quiet whisper. Luckily, I was near enough to hear their quick conversation.  
  
"Albus, I. . ."  
  
"Let them, Minerva. Didn't you say that after the Yule Ball, everything changed?"  
  
"Yes, but. . ."  
  
"You weren't here. Didn't you see her leave?"  
  
"But. . .oh. . .OH!" She seemed to realize something. "I was. . .with him. . .and we. . .so I just ignored what they said and accepted it because I was too wrapped up in him. . ."  
  
"Exactly. Let it happen, Minerva." She looked at him, nodding.  
  
"Yeah, so? I love Dean, Muggle blood or not!" Parkinson had finally managed to say something, and the spectators watched in shock. I know I was shocked - she and Malfoy had sounded so happy earlier in the day, but apparently neither of them actually liked the other. . .  
  
Slytherin betrothals are so messed up.  
  
"Just stay away from me, Mudblood-lover!"  
  
"Fine! I will!" With that, Parkinson buried her face in Thomas' chest, who was glaring at Malfoy. Malfoy had his face in Patil's hair, and he held her close to him. The two pairs moved apart, each Slytherin obviously finding comfort in their Gryffindor love.  
  
Parkinson said something intelligible into Thomas' chest, where she was weeping quietly. He looked around helplessly, trying to get someone to help him, but the only sound in the hall was Lisa Turpin asking Ernie MacMillan if he would "Please explain to me how the hell we're supposed to make sense of anything she just said?!"  
  
"Two down, one to go," Dumbledore said from behind me, winking at McGonagall. She smiled back, looking genuinely happy for what was probably the first time I can remember. And, no, Quidditch games and winning the House Cup don't count.  
  
"I would pay big money to see that again," Potter said from behind me. "Imagine - both Parvati and Dean. . .with Slytherins. . ."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with Slytherins," I said, defending my house. "Many of us do go evil, but that doesn't mean we're all bad. After all, don't others go bad too - Sirius Black was a Gryffindor, and look at what he did." Potter stiffened, and I instinctively felt that I had said something wrong. "Look, Potter, I'm sorry if I said anything wrong. . ."  
  
"No, it's not your fault. I-I can't explain it right now. But thanks for trying to make amends."  
  
"You're welcome," I said, automatically, letting my extensive etiquette training take over.  
  
"I wonder how long Ron and Hermione will be. I guess they've left me alone for the night, haven't they?" He really did sound wistful, and I could almost feel the loneliness radiating off of him.  
  
"Probably. Look, Potter, if it helps, I'm sorry. I know what it's like not to have anyone to depend on."  
  
"Do you?" he asked, as though he weren't expecting an answer. "Did you ever have the Dursleys?"  
  
"The Dursleys?"  
  
"My aunt and uncle. The people I live with during the summers. They kept me in a cupboard for 10 years, until I found out I was a wizard. And then. . .when they found out I couldn't use my magic on them, they locked me in my room. That first summer, I only managed to escape because Ron and the twins came in their car."  
  
"So that's what the whole thing with the flying car was!"  
  
"Yes. Well, that and the whole thing with Dobby, but that's not a major issue anymore. The Dursleys have gotten better recently, which pretty much means that they ignore me. I've never had anyone but myself. In fact, I didn't even have friends until I got here. Dudley always kept them from me, so I learned early on to depend on myself. I think it's one of the reasons I've been able to defeat Voldemort so many times - I don't need people like the Death Eaters to prop me up."  
  
"I see what you mean, Harry. I've always been surrounded by people, but Slytherins live on a policy of never trusting anyone, and I don't feel at all close to those who I've lived with for five and a half years. Nor do I feel close to my family. We treat everything more like a business than like a life, and closeness and trust are not encouraged."  
  
"Did. . .did you just call me Harry?" I blushed, realizing my slip. Everyone else, even Parkinson and Malfoy, the people I was "closest" to, were called by their last names, and I'd let him see I liked him. Of course, it's not like it wasn't obvious beforehand. . .  
  
"Yes. . .yes. . I. . .I did. . ."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Everyone else sees me as the Boy Who Lived, but you see me as Harry. Thank you."  
  
"It's. . .no big deal," I said, blushing again.  
  
"Yes, it is. To me," he answered, staring at me with those huge green eyes. And then, suddenly, his mouth was on mine, and it felt so wonderful. He tasted like chocolate, with just a hint of whipped cream beneath, and my tongue quested for more.  
  
He suddenly broke away. "I-I'm sorry. . .I know you don't like me, it's just that. . ."  
  
"Actually, Harry, I do like you. I've liked you for ages, but I never thought you like me back. Please. . .kiss me again?" I asked, my voice pleading. He obliged, letting his lips fall onto mine once more. I thanked all the gods I knew that we were in a dark corner, without that many people around.  
  
"Will you dance with me?" he asked, holding out his hand.  
  
"Sure," I answered shyly, finally ready to show the school another Slytherin/Gryffindor couple. He lead me out to the dance floor, where we danced quietly, his hands gentle on my shoulders, my head leaning into his chest. He's so much taller than I am, which is a wonderful thing.  
  
"Let's go outside, Harry," I said after a while, when I had gotten hot from dancing. He let me lead him to one of the gardens, where we found a bench and sat down. We chose one in plain view of the doors, so that no one would think we were doing anything. . .illicit.  
  
A black dog came up to us, jumping onto Harry and licking his face. He laughed, pushing the dog down, saying, "Down, boy. There's a good dog." He turned to me. "This is Snuffles - he's Professor Lupin's dog. I think Professor Dumbledore's watching him for a while."  
  
"Professor Lupin, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from our third year? The werewolf?"  
  
The dog growled. "Yes, he's a werewolf, but he takes a potion to make him harmless."  
  
"I knew there was something Professor Snape was leaving out when he told us. . .I suppose they dislike each other?"  
  
"Yes. Professor Lupin was friends with my father as well as Sirius Black, and Snape hated both of them."  
  
"Of course," I answered, petting the dog, but stopping it from licking my face.  
  
"Down, Snuffles." The dog whined. "Yes, I know you want to lick her face, but she's wearing a nice outfit, and you're not exactly clean." He seemed to think the dog would understand, and, strangely enough, it appeared to obey his commands. Personally, I was thankful, because I definitely didn't want black dog hairs all over my nice lilac robes. Yes, I am a bit vain about my appearance, thank you very much.  
  
Harry and I didn't return to the Ball at all, so I don't know what else happened, though I did hear that Malfoy's response to me going off with Potter instead of Crabbe or Goyle was "What do you mean you lost her? It's not like she's a set of keys!" I find that quite funny. Of course, he'd lost Parkinson earlier, but it's not like he cared about HER.  
  
Another interesting thing that I heard happened is that Neville Longbottom somehow managed to spill an entire carafe of pumpkin juice all over Cho Chang, who had come to the Ball without a date, though word was that she was dating Oliver Wood. She'd been wearing a pale green, and the juice completely ruined her robes.  
  
I felt a bit bad - they had been rather nice robes - but Cho was not my major concern.  
  
Harry was.  
  
And, after the dog finally left, Harry kissed me again, then walked me to the entrance to the Slytherin dorms. "Goodnight," I said, as he kissed me again.  
  
"Goodnight. . ." He seemed to be trying to phrase something. "Blaise," he said, using my name for the first time that night, "will you go out with me?"  
  
"Yes," I said joyously. "Yes, I will." And then he kissed me again.  
Author's Note: Yes, the speaker is Blaise Zabini, and, yes, she and Harry Potter are going to be a couple. This scene takes place in the middle of their sixth year, at the Yule Ball. I hope you enjoyed it!  
  
RoseFyre 


End file.
